He Rises
by BizarreSerenity
Summary: In which Bane and Talia are reborn. Balia, BanexTalia. Rated M.


She was a creature of fire, of the dark.

A Phoenix.

Bane remembers the exact moment of her birth, can recall the very second her shrill, sobbing screams echoed through the shadowy depths of The Pit. Locked into the cell beside her mother's, he listened quietly, breathing in every word.

_Talia. _

Tiny, beautiful, Talia, would be his reason for living. He alone saw the spark she made, the little lick of pure, bright flame in a place where only hellfire could cast its light, save for the mocking circle that was The Pit's only entrance and exit, set high above a jumble of high ledges and stone steps.

It killed him to shear her dark, beautiful locks when they grew much too long to continue her masquerade as a boy, but after he would stare into her large eyes the color of dusk, a deep, dark blue that held more knowledge of the world than a five year old should. He would be the one seeking comfort, even as she smiled, laughed, and ran her small hands over her shorn scalp to feel the prickly fuzz that remained.

She had been so small, so fragile. Her limbs had been thin, her bones light and hollow, like a baby bird's, skin dark, eyes bright. She had been his little dove, skin as soft as downy feathers, her soft voice like the bird's coo.

He told her stories about the forests, about the seas, the mountains, the great rivers and ice floes of the world at night when the prisoners howled for blood. He held her close against his broad chest, where she lay trembling as she listened until finally, she fell asleep.

The years passed quickly.

Her features grew even more fine, delicate. She was utterly _female_ with her heart shaped face, slender body, dazzling smile and beautiful eyes. Scarves and ragged tunics could not hide all of her beauty, her innocence, her light.

The day she rose was the day that Bane pushed her out of the nest,to fly, to escape. He can recall the look in her eyes after she made the jump no one else could take, as he was drawn down into the angry mob and torn apart.

_I love you, always_, her eyes had said.

_Forgive me._

There had been no need for forgiveness. The only thing that kept Bane alive was Talia, the memory of her eyes, of the coo that had been her voice. His little one, his Dove, the creature of flame and shadow that had been born of The Pit.

He didn't begin to even think about Rising until she returned and set him free, her father at her side.

He has her _eyes._

Instantly, Bane found himself consumed with hatred at the sight of Ra's Al Ghul. He wanted to crush the man's skull with his bare hands as Talia knelt in the filth of his cell, cradling him, whispering endearments and apologies in his mother-tongue as Ra's soldiers readied a stretcher to take him up.

How had this man, this man who had fathered his Dove, not known about her existence for so long? How could he have not guessed, had thought about the possibility?

How could a man who proclaimed to love a woman so much let her take his place in a place such as The Pit?

And, more importantly, how could he have let his very daughter be born and raised in such a place?

How had he _left_ her?

It is Bane's turn to Rise after the doctors present him with his mask, designed to keep the pain and demons away. His face is too damaged to be left open to the air, muscles and bone wretched and torn so badly that his mouth is but tatters, lips in scarred strips and cheeks pitted with raw muscle peeking through. His spine is In even worse shape, thanks to The Pit's demented morphine addled doctor.

There are a few hellish days where time is nothing to him, where the minutes, hours, and days blend into a fiery inferno as they regulate the dosage into the mask, attach it to his skull, feeding wires through his spine. She is there beside him, a shimmering girl full of fire and flame. Her hair is long, falling in dark curls down her back, and when the few moments of clarity reach for him he wonders if she still loves him.

The look in her eyes answers him when he wakes, those impossibly blue gems staring straight into his dark, drug addled ones.

_I'm here._ She whispers in his mother-tongue. _Look at me. Think only of me. We are together again._

And at that moment he can feel himself Rise from that place, that corner cell in The Pit where he had lain for two years without her, beaten, torn, disfigured and cold.

She is a woman when he Rises and begins his training, the true daughter of Ra's Al Ghul when she demands that they be trained as a fighting pair. It was the only battle she had ever lost, glaring coldly at her father when he refused. His reasons were vague, cold: Bane was needed elsewhere, she is needed elsewhere, his strength far surpasses her own for sparring not to be fatal.

Bane's fists clench and his vision swims with crimson at the thought of himself hurting Talia, at the mere mention that he might just _slip_ into the monster that had lived in The Pit for so many years.

Their bond is beat at, pulled this way and that by Ra's. He does not understand why his daughter will not leave the criminal's side without a direct order, why she is cold when Bane is sent away on long missions, why she refuses to be partnered with anyone else. There are plenty of other men vying for her attention, yet this _monster _occupies her heart.

Bane knows that no one will ever understand.

He is father, brother, friend, and now, _lover._

She gives herself to him on one of the coldest nights of the year, bare save for a long, gold colored robe that covers her from neck to foot. Before he can speak, _breathe_, it slips from her shoulders to pool at her feet, and in the glow of the single brazier he is permitted in his initiate's cell, his Dove is reborn.

Her wings are made of flame, of embers and the shadows she has been born in. Ra's may have trained her to use them to her advantage, but she is made of them, one with them. She is a creature that no other man may posses.

She is _Bane's_ and he is _Talia's._

This time they Rise together, and for the first time, Bane recalls the chant of The Pit with fondness.

_Deshi Basara._

_**He Rises.**_


End file.
